


You Give Love a Bad Name

by NotEvenCloseToStraight



Series: Playlist [10]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fake Dating, Fake Marriage, Fluff and Humor, Mild Angst, Mr and Mrs Smith AU, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, spies in disguise - Freeform, winterwidow - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:20:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25657306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotEvenCloseToStraight/pseuds/NotEvenCloseToStraight
Summary: Mr and Mrs Barnes live a quiet life in a quiet cul-de-sac in a quiet suburb. Natasha bakes pies, wears pearls and vacuums and is president of the Homeowners Association. Bucky works at an architectural company, chats about lawn maintenance and plays golf on the weekends. They have a weekly classy if not predictable date night, once weekly tender if not repetitive sex, and go to church every Sunday.Predictable, quiet, calm... and a damn lie.When Natasha and Bucky inadvertently discover they are on opposite sides of competing espionage establishments, their carefully constructed cover comes crashing down. Natasha had no idea her husband was the presumed dead Winter Soldier, Bucky had no clue his demure wife suits up in spandex and high heels to be the Black Widow on her monthly ‘girl’s night out’.Now with their respective agencies convinced they are compromised and therefore expendable, Bucky and Natasha go undercover together to get to the bottom of a plot that could only end with both of them dead.Their marriage was built on lies-- but is there enough truth in the years of ‘I love you’ to bring them through this mess?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov
Series: Playlist [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1462534
Comments: 30
Kudos: 133
Collections: WinterWidow





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ceealaina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceealaina/gifts).



> A Mr and Mrs Smith AU birthday gift fic for @ceealaina who lets me text her Bucky-themed bullshit at all hours of day or night, thoroughly enables the hundreds of ideas I have, and is always willing to read the nekkid scenes so I don’t feel self conscious about them. I love you!

**Chapter One: Somewhere Hot and Humid and Miserable**

_“I have visual on the Winter Soldier.”_

Bucky swore when the comm in his ear crackled to life with SHIELD operatives coming after him. Stealing the piece from a downed agent had been an excellent idea, but good _gravy_ it was doing terrible things to his blood pressure to hear how close they were getting to him. 

It was bad enough there were SHIELD agents here anyway. This was supposed to be a clean job– into a building, plant something that went Ka-Boom snatch some files and make a movie worthy get away before anything detonated. Easy. Bucky could plant and detonate a bomb in his sleep but this time _SHIELD_ had somehow caught wind of his mission and came to intercept, so now he was running for his life in what amounted to fifty pounds of tactical gear and pants that admittedly made his ass look great but also made his ass sweat and _yeesh_ not much was worse than butt crack sweat, it only led to chafing and that led to all sorts of unfortunate issues. 

Could be worse. It could have been that bitch the Black Widow who had intercepted him instead of some goon in thermal goggles who had screamed a little when Bucky came around the corner.

Amateurs. 

They just didn’t make hired goons like they used to, honestly it was embarrassing. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky caught sight of sand and water and darted to the left to duck into the trees lining the back end of the ocean-side market place. Shopping meant lots of people, lots of noise and lots of opportunities to blend in, so while he ran Bucky just started stripping, tossing his gear willy-nilly until he looked like just another tourist out for a stroll.

 _Swoosh_ there went his tactical vest under a table and Bucky was instantly several pounds lighter. He’d already stashed his bag of weapons before SHIELD interfered so at least he didn’t have to sacrifice his favorite knives for the chase. 

_Yeet_ a trash can got his face mask and dark hat. No one knew the Winter Soldier had shoulder length, shampoo commercial worthy hair so that was a disguise all in itself. 

_Quick quick quick_ into the back end of a vendors tent and Bucky grabbed at his knife to shred the laces of his boots, kicking them off and tossing socks back into the bushes so now he was barefoot. 

_Yoink_ , a pair of sunglasses to cover his eyes. 

_Scccrtch_ , all the guys had laughed when Bucky had insisted on tear away combat pants, but who was laughing _now_ that he was just in underwear instead of hopping around trying to get his foot out of full length pants. 

_Jingle Jangle_ as he tossed some change in the tip jar and stole a drink right out of a baristas hand and _abracadabra_ the fearsome Winter Soldier was no more. Now it was just Bucky Barnes strolling down the boardwalk barefoot and damn near bare assed because his skivvies were more of a _European_ cut, sipping an iced espresso and watching with barely concealed amusement as three different SHIELD agents pushed and shouted and wrestled through the crowd trying to follow what they thought was his trail. 

“ _Lost visuals but still pursuing_.” came the voice in his stolen comm and Bucky lowered his voice to a Winter Soldier growl to sneer, “ _ty ne mozhesh’ nayti prizrak. You cannot find a ghost_.”

A chorus of surprised curses over the comms as the agents realized they were compromised, then all lines went dead and Bucky grinned to himself and crushed the piece between his fingers before tossing it in the trash and stepping off the boardwalk to get to the sand. 

He would have to lay low until the agents gave up the chase and since his rendezvous with a handler wasn’t until tomorrow morning, he had at least twelve hours to kill. This being the beach and all, there was a pretty obvious way to accomplish both staying busy and blending in– a way that usually started with a shot of tequila and hopefully ended with someone pretty, so Bucky started off down the sand scanning the lines of sunbathers for anyone who looked both alone and also maybe potentially welcoming… 

_Oh my oh my, who was this?_

“Alejandro, my love.” She was tiny and _gorgeous_ , standing up on the cutest tippy toes in the world to point to whichever alcohol she wanted in her drink. “When I said tequila, I meant several shots of it and when I said several shots, I meant of the good stuff. Don’t give me the watered down swill you feed the tourists, I’d like my hair to be standing on end when I’m done.” 

The bartender only _blinked_ at her, and the little redhead grinned half viciously,” Don’t be scared, darling. Simply start pouring and I’ll tell you when to stop.” 

“You’ll tell him when to stop, huh?” Bucky couldn’t have stopped himself from butting in if his life depended on it, far too intrigued by her attitude and feral little grin to keep it to himself. “Babydoll, you’re practically shot sized yourself. Too much of that mess and you’ll end up passed out and missing what’s sure to be a real pretty sunset.” 

“Oh do you think so?” she turned absolutely _lethal_ green eyes in Bucky’s direction, tipping her head back far to meet his gaze and baring a whole lot of creamy skin and - _gulp_ – a very tiny white bikini that didn’t leave much of nothin’ to the imagination. “ _Do_ you think I’ll end up passed out? How touching to receive such concern from a perfect stranger.” 

Bucky’s mouth twitched up into a smile at the blatant sarcasm. _Fuckin’ sassy_. “I wouldn’t say m’concerned about _you_. But I _am_ concerned bout that little white bikini you’re wearing. I’d hate to see it get all sandy and dirty if you end up passed out from too much tequila. Before you start taking shots, maybe you should change into something safer.” 

“Safer.” The redhead tried and failed to hide a smile. “And what do you think would be safer than my own clothes?” 

“You could wear my clothes.” Bucky suggested. “ _Those_ sure are safe.” 

“Your clothes.” She looked Bucky over slow and thorough, lingering at the breadth of his shoulders and size of his biceps, _hmm_ -ing in interest at the cut of his abdomen, unfairly plump lips parting suggestively when she got to his skivvies and pink tongue making an appearance as she checked out his thighs. 

“It would _seem_ ….” she dragged the word out as she lifted her eyes back to his. “…That you barely have enough clothes to make yourself safe, much less me. Surely you aren’t suggesting we _share_? I hardly think there’d be room for li’l ol’ me with the way you’re filling out those rather skimpy briefs.” 

“Oh.” Bucky wheezed in shock, torn between laughing out loud at the sheer audacity of the little minx and wanting to grab a towel to cover his crotch before things got _more_ filled out. “Ho ho holy crap, Batman. Warn a fella before you go all Jessica Rabbit on him.” 

“Jessica Rabbit.” Bright green eyes sparkled like she was trying hard not to laugh. “Don’t tell me you believe she’s wicked? She wasn’t _bad_ , darling. She was only drawn that way.” 

“Yeah?” Bucky wet his lips and shifted his weight forward, folded his arms over his chest and tamped down the urge to growl in approval when her gaze automatically dropped down to watch. “What about you? Wicked, or just drawn that way?” 

“Who’s asking?” she wanted to know and Bucky _literally_ couldn’t help himself– “The FBI. Female Bikini Inspector. This is a purely professional inquiry ma’am, I’m honestly worried about your current attire.” 

“Professional.” A giggle finally escaped, sounding like fairy bells and tinkling chimes and all that other sort of bullshit Bucky had never thought laughs could ever sound like. “My my, I feel so much safer knowing I’m in the hands of a _professional_.” 

“Not quite in my hands yet.” Bucky countered. “Feel like the tequila would help with that, though. Speed up the process and all that.” 

“Hmmm.” Such a fuckin’ _interesting_ noise coming from the hottest woman he’d ever seen, and Bucky wheezed all over again when she reached for a shot of tequila and tossed it back, never once breaking eye contact as she swallowed, then pursed her lips over the worlds luckiest lime wedge. “I feel like the tequila will help with that too.”

“You got plans tonight?” Bucky raised his eyebrows hopefully. “Beyond you know, ending up in the wet dreams of every male in a three mile radius?” 

“That’s completely offensive.” she picked up another shot and pushed it into Bucky’s palm. “I like to think I’ll be in the wet dreams of most women in a three mile radius too.” 

“Fuckin’ cheers, doll.” Bucky lifted the shot glass and pounded it real quick then wiped his mouth. “So. Plans?” 

“I have to make a phone call.” Money appeared from the beaded purse on the bar top and she handed it over to the bartender. “Keep the shots coming and I’ll be right back.” 

“Gotta tell your husband you’re staying out tonight?” Bucky joked, and she scrunched her nose at him, “Of course. Wouldn’t want him to worry.” 

Bucky was still laughing as she picked her way down the beach a few yards for privacy. “The name’s Bucky, by the way!” he called. “In case he asks!” 

“That’s a terrible name!” she called back. “I’ll tell him you have a real name instead, thanks!” 

“You got a name I can tell _my_ husband?” Bucky wanted to know, and the prettiest smile he’d ever seen crossed her face before the reply came, “My name’s Natasha.”

– “ _Widow_.” 

The phone clicked on and Natasha immediately lowered her voice. “Status on the Winter Soldier?” 

“ _We lost track of him as we passed the boardwalk, then found a potential suspect several blocks south. Same build and even though he wasn’t wearing the tactical gear, he was the only one wandering around in full length pants and boots_.” 

“Stay posted outside his hotel all night, make sure he doesn’t move before dawn.” Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned. “How did our intel fail us so badly that we had no idea the Winter Soldier was on our trail?” 

“ _No clue, ma’am. Still a go for the morning_?” 

“Yes.” she decided. “I will be off comms until 0500 hours, then will meet at the rendezvous point.” 

_“Off comms?_ ” 

“That’s what I said.” 

_“Sorry ma’am, it’s just that you’ve never been off comms **once**.” _

“There’s a first time for everything.” Natasha looked back over at the absolute beefcake named Bucky who had so inadvertently crashed her session of frustrated botched mission drinking. “0500 hours. Don’t bother me before that unless the world’s coming to an end.” 

_“Yes ma’am.”_

Natasha turned her phone off and tucked it back into her little purse, adjusted the fall of her bikini so it accentuated all the best parts of her… _personality_ …and made her way towards the bar again. 

“So tell me.” Giving in to the urge that presented itself the literal second Bucky had opened his mouth, Natasha skated her hand over the front of his abs, biting her lip to quiet a thrill when the muscles shifted and twitched beneath her palm. “How does a man end up with the name Bucky?” 

“Y’know if we’re being honest, Ms. Tasha.” Bucky caught her hand and brought it up to his mouth for a kiss. “Bucky ain’t even my real name.” 

“You don’t say.” Natasha reached for a lime wedge and held it up while Bucky took another shot, tapping it against the corner of her mouth as she asked, “And what would your real name be?” 

Emboldened by the _welcome_ in her posture, in the smirk curving full lips and the clear challenge in those green eyes, Bucky bent down low and drew his tongue along the line of her lips, licking the tart lime juice from her mouth and rumbling, “Nothin’ that matters. But you wanna find out why all the pretty girls get to call me Bronco?” 

Jesus _fuck_ Bronco was a stupid name, but Natasha couldn’t deny the moniker made sense. Bronco _indeed_ when he pushed her up against the wall of his hotel room and snapped the strings of her barely there bikini and fit thick fingers up inside where she was sopping _wet_. 

Bronco _indeed_ when he sucked a bruise onto her neck and growled _more_ when she gasped and cut her nails down his back as she came all over his cock. 

Bronco _indeed_ when she kicked off the wall and shoved him onto the bed and did it herself, one hand in her hair, the other firmly planted on her clit as she rode him until she was done and done and _done_ and only then did Bucky flip her onto all fours and get what _he_ needed while mouthing kisses down her back and panting about how gorgeous she was, how perfect she was, how she made him bat shit crazy. 

Bronco, _indeed_. 

What a stupid, well deserved name. 

She was sore in the morning. 

The tequila had gone done shot after shot, lime wedges shared and salt licked off various body parts until Natasha had been drunk and giggly and Bucky had been slurring his words in a low Brooklyn drawl that had no _business_ being quite so sexy. There was karaoke after the sex for some reason, Bucky dragging her back down to the beach at one in the morning and they sang a duet to ‘You Give Love a Bad Name’ while she wore a shirt and a spare pair of bikini bottoms and Bucky pew-pew’ed finger guns at her and Natasha laughed and laughed land laughed and _laughed_ harder than she’d laughed maybe ever. 

“You live in New York too?” Bucky had asked at close to two thirty am, lifting his head from where it had been buried between her thighs, wet on his chin and smeared across his lips and he was so so sexy and so so _funny_ that Natasha couldn’t even be mad that he’d stopped eating her out to exclaim, “Me too! We should be Big Apple Buddies!” 

“Let’s talk about being buddies after you finish what you’re doing.” Natasha instructed, tightened her legs at his neck and flipped him over without even trying, throwing back her head and crying out when Bucky’s giant hands clamped down at her thighs and squeezed like maybe he was going to break the hold— or maybe he was just keeping her right _there_ over his face. 

Oh yeah, Bronco was a stupid fucking name but that didn’t stop Natasha from riding his tongue until Bucky was groaning and digging at her ass to hold her down so he could taste _all_ of her. 

Her throat was sore the next morning too. From screaming, from trying to deep throat a Bronco, whatever the reason. 

_Sore_. 

But that didn’t erase the smile on her face even as she pressed a lipstick kiss to a napkin and left it on the pillow next to her still sleeping and currently snoring lover. 

It was twenty minutes down the beach to her hotel, she needed to get into her clothes and out to the rendezvous point and _sure_ the Black Widow prided herself on never needing to sleep on a mission but she’d also never been given the ride of her life and then expected to be punctual and lethal only a few hours later. 

_Ugh_. 

“Word on the suspected Winter Soldier?” she asked into their new comms since the ones yesterday had been compromised. “Or any action otherwise?” 

“ _A quick sweep of the building proved what we thought yesterday– the Soldier had been in the vicinity and left a bomb behind_.” 

“Time left?” 

_“Sixty seven minutes.”_

Natasha muttered a curse. “The bastard was going to get in, take those files, and then blow up any evidence of the theft. That’s my plan!” 

“How do you want to proceed?” 

She thought for a minute, tapping at her lip, then wincing because Bucky had bit her _hard_ last night and she was still tender. “We can’t risk going in earlier, it will blow the op. Too late and the Soldier will get out with our information.” 

Another minute of thought and finally she said, “Alright. Here’s the plan.” 

************

Bucky wasn’t sure if he was disappointed Natasha had snuck out before he woke up , or relieved the gorgeous redhead had disappeared before he had to politely toss her out on her perfect ass so he could get ready for his mission. 

Easy in and out, snatch some files, blow it all to shit, run the hell away. Even if the SHIELD agents were looking for him today, he’d be able to stroll in as a civilian, then mask up and get what he needed before his little Ka-boom present did the thing, and he’d be back on a plane to New York by nightfall. 

Then it would be beers with Brock and decompressing after the mission and since he was still tasting Natasha on his goddamn _tongue_ , some alone time to work out the last of the post mission jitters. 

Easy in and out, snatch some files, blow it all to shit–

“ _Shit_.” Bucky had only barely made it out of the office before a SHIELD agent dropped out of nowhere and drop kicked him back through the door. Then another, which wasn’t really a big deal because Bucky could put through _both_ into the wall and out into traffic with a solid punch but _fuck fuck fuck_ there wasn’t supposed to be anyone here and there was only a few minutes flex time on that bomb before everything came down around his ears. 

He did _not_ have time to fuck around with SHEILD. 

One of the men dented the elevator door when Bucky kicked him, several ribs and at least one of his arms broken. Another went through a window and wa-a-a-a-a-y down to the ground below and when a third jumped him at the corner, Bucky grunted in frustration and grabbed the closest thing he could rip off the wall and _chucked_ it. 

Not many people could walk away from being hit with a filing cabinet, and unfortunately for SHIELD operative number three, he was not one of the few. 

“Jesus.” Natasha swore and swore again when she saw yet another one of her men go down, the onslaught of the Winter Soldier not slowed down in the least by the presence of unexpected enemies. “Okay. Blow it now. Take the Soldier down with the building.” 

_“Ma’am?”_

“Blow the bomb _now_. I’d rather lose those files than have them out there with the Winter Soldier.” she said grimly. “Blow it now.” 

The building _blew_ , spectacular in the way all explosions were, deafening and ground rattling and Natasha watched through her binoculars as one after another of the still-empty-before-work floors crumbled to dust until there was hardly anything left. 

“Stay on it.” she ordered her lieutenant. “I’ve seen the Soldier come back from things that would kill anyone else. Wouldn’t put it past him to survive a bomb. You are _not_ to leave from this place until we know he isn’t coming out.” 

_“Roger that.”_

Natasha went to do damage control, listening through the comms as reports came in from all over the city and after _hours_ of waiting, the final confirmation that four bodies had been found in the rubble– three SHIELD agents, and one unidentified body wearing tactical gear and carrying far too many weapons to be a civilian. 

“ _Congratulations_.” Director Fury patched in later that night. “ _All reports say the Black Widow has finally successfully taken out the Winter Soldier. Congratulations.”_

“Any idea who he is?” Natasha asked as she jogged across the landing strip to get to the jet. “All these years following him and we’ve never been able to get a positive ID on the Soldier.” 

“ _We’ll run all the appropriate tests, but I guarantee Hydra would have erased this guy from any database out there_.” Fury denied. “ _We’ll never have a name, but for right now we have a body and that’s enough. You’re to report into base immediately when you land, it’s time for you to lay low for a while so we can see how Hydra is going to retaliate_.” 

“See you soon.” Natasha strapped herself into the seat just as the jet engines were warming up, and as it rocketed down the runway and took the sky, she couldn’t help looking down at the rapidly disappearing beach and wondering just how bad it would have been to stay maybe one more night. 

She was due for a vacation, right? Maybe when Fury said it was time to lay low, he wouldn’t mind if she _laid low_ on the beach with a hot Bronco at her side…

…. Down below in the rubble of the destroyed building, Bucky bit his lip raw trying not to scream with pain as footsteps sounded around and on top of the elevator car he’d managed to hide in when he heard the initial detonation. The elevator shaft had collapsed under the force of the explosion but the walls had shielded him from the heat and when the building had come thundering down, the elevator car had dented and crumpled as it fell–

–then landed on support struts that punctured through the walls and nearly severed his left arm from his body in one blindingly painful cut. 

The worst thing about being Hydra’s pet steroid project was the pain tolerance– anyone else would have passed out from the pain or at least had the decency to bleed out and _die_ but super soldiers didn’t have either of those luxuries. Bucky couldn’t even scream it out, not yet, not when he couldn’t be sure the SHIELD agents were done combing through the wreckage for him. 

“ _Soldier_.” Just barely, over his comms and Bucky hissed in a quiet breath and whispered, “Here.” 

“ _They found a fourth body in tactical gear, assuming it’s you.”_

“Decoy body.” Bucky managed. “Set up yesterday just in case.” 

_“Good work. What’s your status?”_

“Hurt as fuck.” 

_“ETA for extraction, four hours.”_

Four hours, so Bucky leaned his head back against the elevator wall and forced himself to breathe, forced away a wiggle of fear. 

They wouldn’t be able to save his arm, most likely they wouldn’t even _try_ and Bucky might be the type to joke about everything, but the way Pierce had been experimenting with robotic pieces and body modification on the less successful operatives was no joking matter, and frankly, Bucky was _terrified_. 

But it was going to be four hours so he closed his eyes and quit thinking about what they’d do to his arm and thought about the night before instead, about Natasha and how she’d lit up his life like a goddamn star for those few hours. 

Meeting her had been like meeting an angel, and sleeping with her had been like tangling with a succubus. Intense and smoldering and hilarious… hell, Bucky never thought he’d settle down, but he could sure as hell settle for a while with her. 

Besides, he was due for an actual vacation soon, right? Maybe Hydra would just cut him loose and he could find vacation on the beach with a pretty redhead at his side…

_“The Director wants to see you in the medical bay when you get back stateside.”_

Ah hell. 

Well, a fella could dream. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Unfortunately, Somewhere in the Suburbs**

_Three years later._

_Monday_

“Good morning, hon.” Bucky dropped a kiss on Natasha’s cheek and poured himself a cup of coffee, spilled a little over the rim and wiped it up with his hand. “Off to the office already?” 

“A real estate agent never stops.” She replied absentmindedly, scanning the newspaper and tapping her finger at a classified ad. “Did you see the HOA finally put out that advertisement for a new landscaping company?” 

“Well it’s about time, the shrubs are looking absolutely wild.” Bucky checked his watch, then sipped at his coffee. “They did the right thing, advertising in the paper. I’ll never understand why people think the online advertising is the right way to go. Nothing is better than a good old fashioned help wanted ad.” 

“Oh absolutely, the technology behind advertising on line and the ways people can track you through the computers makes me sick to my stomach. Honestly, I’m intimidated just using a smart phone.” Natasha lied her way through a piece of wheat toast. “What about you, darling? Off to save the world one carefully drawn blue print at a time?” 

“The glamorous life of an architect.” Bucky finished his drink and thunked the cup down into the sink. “I get to oversee a building demo today, so that should be fun.” 

“Sounds very fun.” Natasha didn’t even look up from her paper. “Have a good day, dear.” 

“You too, hon.” 

Bucky waved to one of their neighbors as he headed to the garage, waved to another as he got in the car, paused politely to let the dog walker and her bunch cross behind him, then pulled out onto the street at a modest pace and headed towards the office. 

Or rather, headed towards the site of a soon-to-be demo’d building where he had a _wildly_ sketchy baddie still tied to a chair waiting to be _persuaded_ to give up some information. 

“Barnes.” Brock grunted at him when Bucky shoved through the doors of the building, tactical vest on, photostatic skin shredding off his left arm and hand so he could flex bright silver fingers. “You ready for this?” 

“Fuckin’ _always_.” Bucky rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, forced out a sigh. Leaving the house and coming to work always felt like _freedom_ , getting rid of the camouflage material that hid his robotic arm felt like breathing. Three years in the goddamn suburbs on Pierce’s idea of a deep cover mission was fucking torture and some days Bucky just needed to _hit_ something. 

“Hey pal, you ready to talk?” He lowered his voice to a near growl, rough and hard edged with a Russian accent and even Brock took a step away when the _Winter Soldier_ emerged from the soft spoken, polo wearing, lawn mowing golf enthusiast Bucky had transformed into in the past few years. 

“Jesus Christ.” the guy breathed, eyes widened in fear and fingers tightening in his bonds. “You’re– you’re the– they said you died! They said you _died_!” 

“Winter never dies.” Bucky leaned in close, nose to nose with their captive, pale eyes glowing with a rush of adrenaline because _this_ was who he was and it felt good to be him again. “Now then. You ready to talk?” 

“She’ll kill me.” he whispered and Bucky whispered back, “You tell me where the Black Widow is right this fuckin’ second or there won’t be nothing left of you for anyone to find, you understand? _YA porezhu tebya na kuski i sam s"yem_.” 

“She– she’s in New York.” came the stuttered answer. “N-New York. Undercover somewhere deep. That’s all I know, I promise.” 

“Get me a fork.” Bucky snarled and their captive nearly screeched, “She’s got a mission on Friday! Down by the border taking out a hostage before he changes hands! Friday! Get me a computer and I can get you the information!” 

“That’s better.” 

“Hey.” Rumlow bumped Bucky as they passed again. “Did you tell him that you’d eat him? Is that what you said?” 

“All these years working together and you still don’t understand my Russian?” Bucky grinned at his friend. “You kiddin’ me?” 

“Look in my defense, you go from talkin’ like some asshole outta a Brooklyn musical to growling that shit like a super villain.” Brock pointed out. “I spend half the time figuring out your normal words, much less your scary ass threats. Now did you tell him you were going to eat him or not?” 

“Told him I’d cut him in pieces and eat him, yeah.” Bucky grabbed a bottle of water. “Why?” 

“Cos then you said to get a _fork_.” Brock said blandly and the ultra fearsome Winter Soldier waggled his eyebrows in laughter. “Dude, you’re a dumbass.” 

“Well it scared him enough to give up some intel on the Widow.” Bucky shrugged. “Three years we’ve been chasing her and no one’s seen even a sign of the bitch. We finally got a clue.” 

“You threatened him with a _fork_.” 

“Well it worked, didn’t it?!” 

“Huh.” Brock watched Bucky for a minute. “Hows that hottie you get to call wife?” 

“Natasha’s just fine.” Bucky ignored the twinge in his soul at the thought of Natasha, of all the ways she’d turned out to _not_ be the woman he’d fallen in love with, the woman he’d jumped at the chance to marry. “Why do you ask?” 

“Just wondering if you’re getting tired of the assignment.” Brock replied casually, too casually. “Hell, I wish Pierce had told _me_ to go deep cover with someone that hot. Never thought I’d be jealous of a married man, but you hit the jackpot.” 

“I’m married, Brock.” Bucky said shortly. “We have breakfast every morning, dinner together every night, date night on Wednesdays. We live in the suburbs and play backgammon with the neighbors on the weekends. What about that sounds like a jackpot?” 

“You told me when you met Natasha she could put back tequila shot for shot and then ran you ragged all night.” 

“She did.” 

“So what changed?” Brock pressed. “Is she not fun anymore?” 

“Let’s just say Natasha fully embraced the housewife life, and sometimes I wish she…” Bucky braced both hands on the table and shook his head. “…never mind. It doesn’t matter. Her being so checked out of the marriage makes it easy to keep my cover up. Hell, she doesn’t even ask about my arm anymore. The photostatic cling stays on and since I wear jammies–” 

“Jammies?!” 

“–Fuck off. Since I wear _jammies_ to bed, she doesn’t even see the scars. It’s fine. It’s working out.” 

“Sounds boring.” Rumlow countered, and Bucky muttered, “Yeah well, it’s only a job, right?” 

*****************

_Tuesday_

“Good morning, hon.” Bucky dropped a kiss on Natasha’s cheek and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Off to the office already?” 

“A real estate agent never stops.” Natasha watched out of the corner of her eye as Bucky picked up the coffee and poured himself a cup. Predictably, he spilled it just a little bit, wiped it up with his hand and kept right on drinking. “I’m off to show those new condo’s downtown, the high rise ones? Should be a decent commission.” 

“Maybe we should look into getting you a new car then.” Bucky suggested and Natasha _hmm_ ’d quietly. “You’re traveling so much lately, you need something with better gas mileage.” 

“Maybe.” she agreed cordially. “We could talk about it over date night.” 

“Date night.” Bucky repeated, and Natasha arched an eyebrow when her husband looked confused for a minute. “Tonight?” 

“Tomorrow.” she corrected with a faux bright smile. “Wednesdays, remember? Always Wednesday.” 

“Always Wednesday.” Bucky finished his coffee and nodded. “Did the HOA decide on a landscaping company?” 

“Not yet, but I’ve registered an extension for fixing our hedges so we don’t get fined while waiting for the new company.” Natasha promised and her heart squeezed a little when Bucky gave her a grateful smile. “Have a good day at work, alright?” 

“You too, hon.” 

Bucky whistled on his way out to the garage, and Natasha sipped at her coffee once, twice, then picked up the phone. 

“This is Romanov. Have we found him yet?” 

“ _No. Our missing tech is still missing. The CCTV footage of him being snatched hasn’t led to anything, we have no idea who yanked him and no idea where they put him_.” 

“God dammit!” Natasha swore out loud and pitched the coffee cup at the wall, watched it shatter against the hidden panel where she kept her not-quite-culinary-appropriate knives. “Who the hell is even _half_ good enough to snatch one of my techs and then disappear!? Who?!” 

“ _It gets worse_.” 

“HOW COULD IT POSSIBLY GET WORSE!” 

“ _The Winter Soldier has reappeared_.” 

…Natasha went very still. “What? That’s impossible. I killed him three years ago.” 

“ _Apparently not. We have definitive proof that the Winter Soldier is active again_.” 

“You think he snatched our guy?” 

“ _I think that the only reason the Winter Soldier would come out of hiding is to take down the one person who always eluded him_.” 

“Me.” 

“ _You_.” Maria agreed. “ _Can you convince your husband you need to leave town over night? We’ve got to get ahead of this, Tasha_.” 

“Bucky is beautiful but sort of brainless.” Natasha closed her eyes and tried not to curse again. “And we haven’t said more than two words to each other about anything _real_ in years. So long as I don’t miss date night tomorrow, he won’t care if I’m gone. Probably won’t even notice.” 

“ _Date night Wednesday night_.” Maria chuckled. “ _Wow, marriage life sounds super fun. Italian again? Third table from the back and a glass of wine each and then a nice round of missionary position intercourse? Spicy_.” 

“It’s a perfect cover.” Natasha drummed her fingers on the counter irritably. “Plus it’s a lot easier to lie to Bucky when all he wants to talk about is interest rates and the new lawnmower the Belanger’s have.” 

“ _Oh my god, Tasha_.” Maria was full on laughing now. “ _Are you sure this is the same guy who gave you the ride of your life? I was sort of jealous when Fury told you to marry the guy and settle down for a while, but lately I’m thinking I prefer Sam’s wonderfully breezy basketball shorts to Bucky’s high waisted, pleated khakis and polo shirts._ ” 

“Maria, no one misses Bucky’s speedo days more than me.” Natasha snorted. “But it’s a mission so how I feel about it doesn’t matter. And honestly, it’s nice to be married to someone who prefers to sleep in full clothes, he can’t ask about my scars and random injuries if I’m wearing a floor length ruffled nightgown.” 

Maria _cackled_ with laughter over the phone and Natasha pursed her lips. “Maria, focus. Winter Soldier.” 

“ _Yes ma’am. Head out immediately, we’ll rendezvous at the normal place and start making a plan_.” 

“I’ll break out my leather.” 

“ _And I can’t wait to see you in it_.” 

*************

_Wednesday_

“How was work?” Bucky twirled his pasta around his fork and took a big bite. “Sell any of those condos last night?” 

“Two of them.” Natasha sipped at her wine then cut a dainty piece of chicken. “I hope you didn’t mind me having to stay overnight in the city?” 

“I fell asleep on the couch watching the soccer game.” Bucky said, and it wasn’t technically a lie, the soccer game had been on television and he had fallen asleep… after hours of dismantling and cleaning every gun in his below-garage arsenal so he was one hundred percent ready for Friday’s mission. “I hate sleeping in our bed when you aren’t there, so it worked out alright.” 

_Also_ not a lie. Bucky hated sleeping alone in their bed when he’d much rather be wound tight around Natasha. Of course it had _years_ since they’d slept plastered together like they had in those first few months but it was still nice to fall asleep smelling Tasha’s perfume. 

“Was your team playing?” Natasha asked as if she had any idea which team Bucky preferred. “How many touchdowns?” 

“Touchdowns is football, hon.” Bucky corrected and Natasha feigned an embarrassed, “Oh sheesh. Sorry. You know I’m just hopeless with all of that.” 

“That’s alright, I’m pretty sure somewhere in our vows I promised to endlessly teach you about sports.” 

“I’m pretty sure somewhere in our vows you promised to cook for me once a week too.” Natasha was teasing, and Bucky winked in response and for a moment it felt like they were going to actually talk, to actually communicate and maybe even _flirt_ –

–but then the waitress came by with a refill on water and the moment was over, wiped away and replaced by conciliatory smiles and normal date night appropriate small talk as they shared the normal date night slice of chocolate cake.

Then it was a walk home beneath stars that used to feel romantic, the normal date night kisses at the top of the stairs and Bucky being so gentle _gentle_ when he stretched out over Natasha on the bed, Natasha biting her lip to quiet any sort of too loud noise when he gently _gently_ opened her around his fingers, both of them falling together gently _gently_ because Bucky was terrified to hurt his little wife and Natasha knew she couldn’t demand harder without her clueless husband thinking it was odd. 

Gentle _gentle_ like it was every date night and Bucky always made sure she finished first before he did, and then he was gentle smoothing her nightgown back over her hips and gentle dotting a kiss to her forehead and gentle until he went to the bathroom and tried not to scream in frustration because he needed so much more from Natasha and once upon a time he’d thought she was _everything_. 

Gentle gentle as Natasha cleaned between her thighs because even though Bucky wasn’t exactly a _Bronco_ anymore he was still huge and they honestly didn’t do this enough for her to not be sore afterwards. 

Gentle gentle when Bucky got back into bed with her and pulled her in for a hug and Natasha pressed her lips to his ear and whispered, “I love being with you.” and Bucky only smiled down at her like it didn’t break his heart right in half to realize she never said ‘ _I love you_ ’ anymore at all. 

**************

_Thursday_

“Oh here’s Natasha, I was just telling you about her!” Missy Belanger hurried over to where Natasha was sat primly on the world’s most uncomfortable couch with another carbon copy suburban housewife in tow. “Remember last week when those hoodlums down the way broke my window? Bucky Barnes was the nice man who came over and fixed it and Natasha is his lucky little wife!” 

“Lucky little wife.” Natasha forced her smile to be sweet instead of patronizing, made sure her mid calf length skirt fully covered the fishnet stockings from her last minute assignment, and stood to her feet to shake the newcomers hand. “That’s me. Natasha Barnes.” 

“So nice to meet you!” Good _god_ were the women in this neighborhood plastic. Three years and Natasha had yet to get used to Botoxed smiles and expensively whitened teeth, a perma lack of wrinkles thanks to husbands with fat bank accounts. She was a super spy, but her best disguise had _nothing_ on perfectly put together prima donnas and their color coordinated outfits. 

“So.” Bright eyed and bushy tailed Mrs. Belanger patted at Natasha’s knee. “So I was just telling Nadine all about how you and your Prince Charming met, but it’s so much like a fairy tale, I thought you could tell it better!” 

“Oh!” _This_ again, and Natasha inwardly groaned. It was too bad Mrs. Belanger and her friends were saddled with golf playing, stock exchange following, plaid short wearing husbands but that wasn’t _her_ fault. Not her job to entertain them over and over with the story of how she and Bucky met– and how she proceeded to then _lie_ to the man for every day of the following three years. 

“It was vacation somewhere beautiful and tropical, and I was not looking for love. I was only looking for the next white wine spritzer to keep the heat away.” Natasha knew the story by heart, the one she’d practiced over and over with Fury and Marie’s coaching. 

She and Bucky had met on vacation, ran into each other almost two months later in the city. She’d been shocked to see _Bucky_ of all people in her usual coffee shop, that aw shucks smile every bit as gorgeous as she remembered, pale eyes sparkling as he explained why his arm and shoulder were bandaged up, told her about how he’d wrenched it too hard wind sailing and had to have surgery, that he’d never expected to find her but boy howdy they should have dinner anyway. 

“He said boy howdy and she still agreed to a date!” one of the women– Jacqueline? Shelby? Natasha couldn’t keep them straight, they all look the same– exclaimed and just like always, Natasha put a hand over her heart and laughed. 

“I did! I couldn’t help myself!” 

She didn’t say _anything_ about how Fury had leapt at the chance for a foolproof cover for the infamous Black Widow, hiding in plain sight because no one would ever think she’d trade in her bikinis and spandex for ankle length skirts and modest necklines, give up her knives and guns for a spice rack and a spot on the Homeowners association. It was a perfect cover and her orders had been to pursue the relationship to it’s inevitable end, to make the goofy Bronco fall in love with her and propose. 

“Six months.” she told the group of gathered ladies, remembering to pause long enough for them to _ooh_ and _ahh_ , then to look over at where Bucky was laughing with some of the husbands.. “From vacation to dinner together and then married. It was the most exciting six months of my life.” 

“And you’re celebrating three years together soon?” 

“Next week is three years since we met.” Natasha confirmed. “We celebrate the day we met for the first time, and then of course our wedding anniversary.” 

“It’s so romantic.” One of the women bounced her newest baby on her hip and sighed longingly. “I think the last time Gerald was even slightly romantic was the night we conceived this little Bubba. I see the way Bucky looks at you, Natasha and I’m so jealous I could scream.” 

“Holly!” another one gasped. “Are you and Gerald having problems?” 

“Not compared to what Richard and Kathy are going through.” Holly instantly defended and all heads– except Natasha’s– swiveled towards Kathy. “At least Gerald and I can have a civilized dinner without dishes being thrown through a window!” 

Natasha tuned out the resulting argument, as if thinly veiled insults and pointed looks at each others outfits could be called an argument, and instead turned her attention to where Bucky stood with the other men. 

He was so so _gorgeous_ even when those muscles were covered by the world’s most boring button up, his butt somehow still spectacular even beneath pleated khakis, and even though Bucky had taken to wearing his long hair pulled back into a neat bun and his face shaved smooth, Natasha still saw bits and pieces of the man that had been both her mark and the one that swept her right off her feet. 

It had been a moment of weakness, a moment of _loneliness_ when Natasha had agreed to Fury’s insane plane to hide the Black Widow in middle class America and it was probably Natasha’s fault their marriage wasn’t anything other than a sham. She’d never been cut out for domestic life anyway, and certainly not domestic life that was only a cover for her _real_ life. The first few months with Bucky had been fine but then Widow’s necessary lies had built up and cut into all the moments where newlyweds were supposed to be vulnerable and truthful… 

…and instead of fighting for her, instead of fighting for _them_ , Bucky had gone from the most fun man in the world to the most boring person in the world over night, talking about new grills and low re-financing options and how hybrid cars were going to change the world. Natasha closed herself off to avoid giving up her cover and Bucky seemed perfectly content with letting it be. Natasha had _forced_ herself into the domestic housewife role but Bucky had given up speedos and tequila fast enough to give her whiplash and next thing she knew they were buying a house in the suburbs and joining the HOA, having the same few meals and half a glass of wine for dinner every night at six-thirty, except for Wednesday night which was date night so they went out for Italian and had a _full_ glass of wine instead. 

She could be sad over what might have been her one shot at true, exciting love later but for now she had to get through this party and then get some sleep because tomorrow was a big day. 

Snatching a hostage at the border was the perfect way to draw the Winter Soldier out and the perfect chance for Natasha to finally kill the one person she’d never been able to get her hands on. Hell, they didn’t even know what the Soldier looked like but that would all change _tomorrow_. 

Out in the yard, Darren nudged Bucky and inclined his head towards the house. “Your lady’s looking at you. You two are coming up on three years soon, aren’t you?” 

“Yep here pretty soon.” Bucky checked on Natasha and sent her a smile, got a perfectly bland smile back in return and tried not to let the disappointment show on his face. “Yeah, three– three years since we met.” 

“Got married in just a few months, isn’t that right?” There was someone new in the neighborhood, someone new to the monthly bar-be-cue and while Bucky hadn’t caught his name, he knew the wife had been chatting up Natasha just a few minutes ago. “I can see why. If my Martha looked like that, I would have married her in a few months too.” 

“Can’t believe you two haven’t popped out a couple kids yet.” Someone else ribbed. “I’d never let Natasha out of bed! No sir!” 

Bucky hid a grimace over the callous words, and took a sip of his light beer. For a bunch of guys who wore pastel colors and went for the same haircut every two weeks to avoid looking shaggy, the men in the neighborhood could sure be pervy. They got together over poorly cooked steak and half burnt burgers to talk about sports teams and whatever the financial quarter was doing, to ogle each other’s wives and complain about a lack of getting lucky and inevitably someone made a comment about how drop dead gorgeous Natasha was and Bucky–

–hell, Bucky had to agree. Even in those damn long dresses and never showing her shoulders and any cleavage anymore Natasha was _gorgeous_. She wore her hair clipped back a lot now, her make up subdued and smiles only half as brilliant as they used to be, but she was still the most beautiful woman in the entire world. Still made Bucky’s knees weak. Still made him laugh. Still made him _ache_. 

He missed her, missed the Natasha he’d fallen in love with, missed the late night conversations and the wicked way she smiled and the way she used to breathe _‘I love you viciously_ ’ into his skin when she finished…

“Darling, shall we?” Natasha was suddenly at his side and Bucky startled out of his thoughts in time to put an arm around her waist and hug her lightly. “I have an early day tomorrow, remember?” 

“Of course.” Bucky was grateful for the reprieve, even if it meant he had to shift back into _lying_ mode. He might actually put a bullet in his skull if he had to listen to one more conversation with these guys, and even though the conversations with Natasha weren’t exactly engaging anymore… he loved her. 

_God he loved her._

“Let’s go home. I’ll see you fellas later, alright?” Bucky reminded himself to grimace when Darren patted at his left shoulder, even shied away a little so the man wouldn’t realize he’d connected with solid steel. 

“Oh, sorry about that.” Darren apologized, both hands raised peacefully. “Sorry, bud. I forgot about your shoulder.” 

“What happened to your shoulder?” the new guy wanted to know, and Darren answered for Bucky. “He tore it up real bad wind sailing and had to get a full reconstruction. That’s why he can’t golf for shit, his arms all screwed up.” 

“That’s why I can’t golf for shit.” Bucky confirmed, and briefly envisioned breaking a nine iron over Darren’s head just to shake things up a bit. “The secret’s out.” 

A chorus of sympathetic groans and well wishes and Bucky waved them off as he directed Natasha out through the back gate and along the sidewalk to their place. 

The moment the lights from the party faded, Bucky let his arm fall away and Natasha sent him a brief smile before huddling deeper into her light sweater, rubbing her arms against the early evening chill. 

“I um–” Bucky cleared his throat. “I like your dress tonight, Tasha. You always look real pretty in green.” 

“Oh, thank you.” Natasha smoothed down the front of her dress idly. “I saw it in the summer catalog I borrowed from Rebekah. Everything this season points towards jewel tone colors and slimming lines in sheath dresses and–” 

Bucky tuned her out and instead focused on what was going to happen tomorrow. The chance to snatch a hostage before he was handed over and the chance to actually see the Black Widow in person before putting a bullet through her heart was too good to pass up. 

Years and years of work was going to finish up tomorrow and once the Widow was out of the picture, Bucky knew he had a chance at getting out of this particular job. No need for the Winter Soldier to stay under cover _suburban_ when the only person who was a viable threat would be eliminated. No need for Bucky to keep listening to Natasha drone on about this seasons fashion pieces once he was free to move around again. No need to keep wearing the photostatic skin and hiding who he really was once he didn’t have to play golf with the assholes in the other cul de sac. 

No need to–

“Bucky?” Natasha paused at their door. “You haven’t said a word the entire walk. Everything alright?” 

“Everything’s fine, doll.” He said quickly. “And I think you’re right. The summer line jewel tones are great, you look real pretty. Bout enough to make a fella half crazy.” 

“Hmm.” Natasha’s eyes flashed in interest and for a split second she almost looked like the Natasha he’d fallen for that night on the beach, but then it fell away and that irritatingly bland smile replaced the spark. “I bought you a new tooth brush, did you see?” 

“Yeah, hon.” Bucky quiet a sigh and pushed the door open for her. “Yeah, I saw. Thank you. Dunno what I’d do without you.” 

*************

_Friday_

“How are you feeling?” Maria handed Natasha her favorite rifle. “Ready to kill someone?” 

“Ridiculously ready to kill someone.” Natasha blew her bangs off her forehead and tugged to loosen the collar at her jacket. “It’s a thousand degrees out here, the hostage we’re watching deserves a bullet for being a piece of shit, but instead I have to sit here and wait for the Winter Soldier to maybe show up. Yeah, I’m ready to kill someone.” 

“Target is already acquired, we found a sniper’s nest here on the other side of the ridge.” Maria showed Natasha the computer specs. “No indication we’ve been spotted, you picked an excellent spot.” 

“I always do.” Natasha brought the rifle up to her shoulder and checked the scope. “Come on Winter, you bastard. Show me your face so I can put a hole through it.” 

“You are _intense_ today.” Maria commented. “Date night sex this week was less satisfying than usual?” 

“I’m just counting down the hours until I can make a call to Fury and get out of this stupid domestic assignment.” Natasha was grateful the gun blocked most of her face because Maria always knew when she was lying. “Life in the suburbs is not all it’s cracked up to be.” 

“No shit.” Maria snorted. “Go home and get one last ride from the Bronco and cut those ties. I’ll take you Vegas and we’ll blow off some steam–” 

She shut up when Natasha raised her hand, hunkered down and lifted her own specs. 

“I see you.” Natasha whispered, zeroing in on the tiny figure over a thousand yards away, dark hair and pale skin and the undeniable outline of a heavy duty sniper rifle over his shoulder. “You frosty bastard, you are–” 

***

“– _mine_.” Bucky dialed in his scope and stuck crosshairs over the vaguely humanoid shape he knew had to be the Widow. No one else would be at this exact spot at this exact moment, no way anyone else would have access to the same information about the hostage hand off and he knew the Widow wouldn’t be able to resist such a sweet bag. 

“You are mine, you red haired green eyed little–” Bucky froze when the Widow shifted into clearer focus and her head covering fell away. “… _no_.” 

***

“Take the shot.” Maria whispered when Natasha sucked in a harsh breath and took her finger off the trigger. “Tasha, what are you waiting for?” 

“That son of a bitch.” she breathed. “How in the fuck…” 

***

“Barnes, take the fucking shot, we’ve been tracking this girl for years! Take the shot!” 

“I– I can’t.” Bucky dropped the gun like it was burning his fingers, ducked back behind the rocky outcropping and drove his fingers into his hair. “Shit, I can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“I can’t.” he said again, and ignored the string of black curses as Rumlow called in the failed mission. “Christ, I just can’t. I _can’t_ –” 

He dug his phone out from his pocket and dialed Tasha’s number, held it up to his ear and closed his eyes and prayed…

***

“Your husband is calling.” Maria whispered next to Natasha. “Take the shot, answer the phone, let’s get on with our life. 

“Let it go to voicemail.” Natasha tightened her grip on the rifle and kept staring down the sights at Bucky, her heart in her throat and tears pricking behind her eyes. “Let it go to voicemail.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:** **Somewhere Between “Oh Shit I’m Gonna Die” and “Ho Ho Holy Crap I’ve Never Been So Horny”**

“Hon?” It was late by the time Bucky made it back to the house, his head spinning from the shock of it all, the information overload that began with Natasha and ended somewhere fuckin’ _crazy_. His fingers were shaking on his gun but he held it anyway, his nerves were shot but he walked through the door anyway, his heart breaking but he forced it away so he could be cold and calculated and everything the Winter Soldier always was. 

_“You’ve got twenty four hours to make that woman disappear or the company will step in and do it for you.”_

_“That’s my wife, Rumlow.”_

_“Does it matter?”_

_“…No.”_

“Hey Tasha, did you make it home yet?” He called faux cheerfully, easing the safety off on his gun. “Sorry I missed dinner, but I can’t wait for left overs! Your cooking is always mm-mm-good!” 

A quiet laugh from somewhere in the house, up the stairs and echoing in the hall and Bucky closed his eyes for a split second because _Christ_ he loved Natasha’s laugh, but right now it was just a precursor to what promised to be a painful death at the hands of the Black Widow. 

“Oh hello darling.” Natasha called and in the quick silence that followed came the unmistakable sound of a shot gun being loaded. “I skipped making dinner tonight, thought we could order take out!” 

“Take out.” Bucky darted across the open hall and took cover again behind the huge china hutch. “Is that some sort of assassin joke?” 

“I don’t know, is you demanding to keep the house at some frosty sixty five degrees some sort of _Winter Soldier_ joke?” 

“Natasha–” 

“You _lied_ to me!” 

**BOOM** a hole the size of Bucky’s head tore apart the wall in front of him, and he yelped, ducked and rolled out of the way. 

“ _I_ lied to you?” He shouted in disbelief. “Tasha, they literally call you the Black Widow! How long was it going to be until you killed me anyway? Strung me up in some web of last seasons jewel tone scarves and ate me for dinner?!” 

“I’ll have you know I never _once_ killed a husband, and honestly I’m offended you think so.” Natasha loaded another shell and blew out a deep breath, counted to ten so she wouldn’t burst into tears. “My worst crime against you is being hot enough to make your brain short circuit so you missed every sign of me not being a housewife!” 

“Yeah, and my worst crime–” Pop pop pop Bucky lay down cover fire as he advanced through the house and tried to get closer to the stairs. “–was apparently being hot enough to attract your attention! What exactly did I do to deserve you stringing me along for three years?” 

“Stringing you along?” Natasha cursed when a bullet whizzed by her head, then vaulted over the railing and down into the living, tucking and rolling to lessen the impact. “And how exactly was I doing that? By having dinner ready every night? By buying you new toothbrushes?” 

“Newsflash sweetheart.” A quick flash as Bucky ducked into another room. “Your cooking is fuckin’ _terrible_. Pot roast on Tuesday was so tough I needed a damn chain saw to get through it.” 

“Newsflash, sweetheart.” Natasha swallowed back the _devastation_ clawing up her throat and snarled, “I’ve never cooked a day in my life! I order in catering and my world famous pies come from a bakery in Jersey!” 

“Oh, so she shoots _and_ she lies.” Bucky picked up one of those infernally shiny decorative trays Natasha had always insisted on and in a rare moment of gratefulness for his wife’s horrible taste in decor, used it to peek around the corner to see where Tasha was posted up. “What else don’t I know about you? Are you really a 34 B cup?” 

“My love.” Natasha caught sight of the glimmer at the corner and leaned further out of sight. “If you’d spent more time getting to know the girls instead of rabbit humping away at the final destination, you’d be fully aware I am a perky two sizes bigger than a B-cup.” 

“Damn it.” Bucky rubbed his hand over his face because _damn it_ he was not going to laugh right now. Not when he was trapped in his house with the Black Widow and fighting for his life. He was not going to laugh, even though the sarcasm from Natasha made him think of that one night in the hotel and how she’d been so funny and so damn sexy all at once. He was not going to laugh even though this was the first time in almost three years Natasha sounded like the woman he’d fallen in love with. 

“You still alive, baby?” Natasha called, mocking and teasing and so damn _sad_ and that was enough to pull Bucky from his more morose thoughts. “Let’s finish this already, I have drinks and pedi’s with Maria in the morning.”

“Call her and tell her you won’t make it.” Bucky breathed in once, twice, then yanked his other gun from his back holster. “Come out of hiding, Widow. _vykhodi i poigray so mnoy_. Come out and play.” 

*************

The battle destroyed the house. 

Bullet holes in the walls and through the expensive flooring they’d put in just last summer. The china hutch knocked over and thousands of dollars of dishes shattered. Drywall punctured and a television sized hole contorting a door frame when Bucky hadn’t bothered to check his strength and launched the sixty inch thing towards the hail of bullets from Natasha. 

Wires frayed from speakers that had been torn down and used as projectiles. Curtains in tatters after Natasha had launched into one of them and used it as a rope to kick Bucky square in the face. Knives from the kitchen _everywhere_ , the wall of the den missing after Bucky had chucked a grenade, blood smeared on the wall when Natasha cut her hands on glass and lost her balance. 

A shotgun snapped in half because Natasha winged it at Bucky and he simply broke it before tossing it away. A dagger in the hall where it landed after carving a line across Bucky’s cheek bone. Thousands of spent ammo cases that glowed copper in what was left of the lights. The door to a hidden safe ripped away because Natasha was far stronger than even the most in depth intel had suggested, the weapons inside turned on the advancing Winter Soldier who had stuttered mid step because he hadn’t known Natasha could _do_ that. 

The house was _destroyed_ and when the guns clicked empty and the knives were out of reach, the fight turned physical, master assassins trading punches and kicks, dodges and jabs, retreating and advancing and staring into the face of the enemy with the same steely resolve they’d faced down countless other opponents. 

Except Bucky pulled his punches when Natasha didn’t, held back from sure blows when Natasha climbed his body like a tree and threw him to the ground with her thighs clamped around his neck. She was shockingly strong but Bucky was stronger and only when the redhead pulled another knife from somewhere and held it to his throat did Bucky let his strength surge again and grab her wrists in a single bruising grip to force her _still_. 

“Let me go.” Natasha kneed him in the side and Bucky wheezed, but didn’t break his grip even as Natasha rolled them over and got those deadly legs around his neck again, effectively burying Bucky’s face at the vee of her hips and missing the hilarity entirely.

Bucky didn’t miss it though. “Ooh, it’s been a long time since you let me eat you out.” he grinned and Natasha snapped, “Well maybe if you’d done it more often, I wouldn’t be tempted to snap your fucking neck!” 

“Take your own advice, sweetheart.” Bucky lunged to his feet but Natasha didn’t let go, he shoved her into a wall hard enough to crack the plaster and the vicious redhead only winced and sassed, “You saying I don’t give you enough blow jobs, Bucky?” 

“I’m saying–” Bucky was starting to see spots when her legs tightened at his jugular. “M’sayin’ if you spent more time deep throatin’ and less time doing hot yoga with the girls–” 

“You’re such a pig!” she screeched and Bucky only, “Oink oink oink!”ed until Natasha arched her back to break his hold and connected a swift kick to the side of his head. 

“Ow! Fuck!” Bucky didn’t mean to throw Nat half away across the room– or maybe he sort of did?– but boy howdy did he knew he messed up when she slowly, _painfully_ got to her feet and wiped the blood from her bottom lip, eyes blazing. “Oh shit. Okay. Sweet heart, that was actually an accident. Bullets and everything aside? I’d never just throw you across the room, I promise.” 

“Well I fully meant to kick you in the head.” She countered, and Bucky’s heart sank when Natasha reached behind and pressed at a spot on the wall and a handgun dropped out into her waiting palm. “No harm no foul, darling. Both just doing the job.” 

“Just the job.” Quick as a flash, Bucky tucked and rolled towards the fireplace, wrenched the sawed off rifle from behind the bricks and whirled around with it ready to fire–

–and met Natasha face to face, her pistol pointed squarely between his eyes. 

“Tick tock, husband.” There were suddenly tears in Natasha’s eyes, and Bucky squared his jaw, straightened his shoulder and told himself to be _strong_. “Either your company comes in to finish the job, or mine does. Tick tock.” 

_Be strong, Widow_. She told herself, and tightened her grip on her gun. _Be strong, you don’t love him, you don’t love him, he’s just a job._

“Tick. Tock.” she bit out through clenched teeth. “Or are you going as stupidly chivalrous as always and tell me ladies first?”

_You don’t love him, you don’t love him, you don’t love him._

“Damn it Tasha, don’t _test_ me.” 

A shot gun shell locking into place was a sound every person in the world recognized, and it made Tasha’s blood run cold in her veins. 

_You don’t love him, you don’t love him, you don’t love–_

“Tick. Tock.” she said again, mocking and _devastated_ and all the other things she didn’t want to be feeling right now. “Come on, Soldier. Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” 

“Show me–” Bucky huffed what sounded like a laugh and Natasha blinked at him. “Ah fuck, this shouldn’t be funny, Tasha. This ain’t funny.” 

“Then stop laughing.” she hissed. “What are you doing?” 

“It’s not funny.” the words were whispered now, nearly breathed and Natasha narrowed her eyes uncertainly. “Jesus Tash, this isn’t funny but all I can think about right now is how much I miss you.” 

“How much you– you _what_?” 

“This is the closest I’ve felt to knowing who you are since the first day we met.” Bucky’s gun lowered inch by inch and Natasha’s heart caught up in her chest. “You’re beautiful like this. Wholly in your element, bein’ funny and sassy and fuck, I _miss_ you. The last three years have been packed full’a lies, Tasha but the beginning wasn’t. I love you. And I miss you.” 

The rifle dropped away, clattered to the floor and Bucky put both hands up. “I won’t do this. I won’t.” 

“Damn you.” Natasha put both hands on her pistol, widened her stance and snarled, “Don’t be like that! You don’t love me and I don’t love you and we are just each other’s jobs! Fight me!” 

“No.” Bucky shook his head, took a few steps away. “No, babydoll. If you want this, take it. But I’m not going to do it. I love you.” 

“You are not allowed to say that!” Natasha was shouting now, almost screaming. “That night at the beach you were working a mission that _I_ set up! You showed up and you fucked my mission up and I brought a building down on you! You are not allowed to say you love me, because I watched the Winter Soldier through the scope and ordered a building blown around you! You don’t love me. You are supposed to be _dead_ and instead you showed up in New York and I was a job so you made me fall in love with you but you– you don’t–” 

Bucky took a step forward and she jerked the gun back up. “–no don’t you _dare_. Don’t you come near me. You made me love you–” she stuttered, stammered, bit at her lip until it bled and then cursed, “–damn it, Bucky. You made me love you _viciously_ and now I hate you for it. I hate you for it. This is a job, so finish it.” 

“I won’t.” Bucky said hoarsely. “ _Vy ves’ moy mir,_ you are my whole world, Tasha. I never meant to love you, but now it’s too late and I do. So I won’t do it. You want to finish it, then finish it, but I’m done fighting you.” 

“You cannot be the bigger person right now.” Natasha protested, _begged_. “Three years you’ve been petty and sort of obnoxious, don’t change now. You unscrewed the toilet lid and took it off just so I’d stop bothering you about leaving it up. Do _not_ be the bigger person right now.” 

“You said you love me viciously.” Bucky took another step forward, hands up so she wouldn’t jerk away again. “It’s been so long since you said that I almost forgot how good it sounded. Say it again. Please.”

“No.” 

“ _Tasha_.”

“I–” the gun wavered, tears slipping out the corner of Natasha’s eyes as her resolve crumbled and the self control she’d been clinging to started to shred. “I love you.” 

“ _Viciously_.” Bucky stripped the guns from Tasha’s hands and tossed it away, framed her face in both his hands and pushed her into the wall. “Say it. Say you love me _viciously_.” 

“I love you.” They weren’t sure which one was crying when their lips met, tentative kisses that tasted of sweet sweet sorrow and full of everything they hadn’t ever said to each other in three years of marriage. “Bucky, _yes_.” 

“C’mere.” Tasha was so _little_ and for once Bucky didn’t check his strength when he swooped his wife up, when he grabbed her tight into his body and crushed their mouths together, when he got his left hand on her shirt and just tore it away, breathing a curse over the myriad of cuts and dried blood on her perfect skin. “Oh babydoll, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“It doesn’t hurt.” Natasha tossed her head back and gasped ragged over each tender kiss on the cuts. “But don’t stop, don’t stop, I’ve missed you. I love you.” 

“Viciously.” Bucky pleaded hoarsely. “Say it, Tasha please.” 

“Viciously.” she half sobbed. “Bucky, I love you _viciously_.” 

_Don’t stop._

Bucky didn’t stop, not when they tumbled onto the broken couch and Natasha felt around for a knife to slash at his jeans and shove them off his hips. He didn’t stop when Natasha scored fire down his back with her nails, when her ankles locked around his waist and brought him in deep sooner than either was ready and the burst of pleasure pain popped _light_ behind their temples. 

“I’ve missed you.” Bucky dug bruises into Tasha’s waist as he held her down, closed his eyes and hissed when she bit at his pulse, at the hinge of his jaw, when her teeth scraped his tongue in a messy, brutal kiss. “Fuck Tasha, I’ve missed you. Missed my _wife_. Need you.” 

“You weren’t a mission at first.” Natasha promised when they fell off the couch and Bucky brought her up on top of him. “You weren’t, I swear. When Fury told me to chase you I thought– I thought–” 

“Pierce told me the same thing. I know. I know.” Bucky murmured as they moved together, running his hands up her perfect body, over the barely there scars her nightgown always covered, the tense of muscle and flex of _power_ that made him wonder how he’d ever thought she wasn’t every bit as powerful as him. “I never meant to lie to you, Tasha. Not like this. Never like this.” 

“I never meant to lie to you either.” she reached for him and Bucky came willingly, sat up to chase a kiss, wound their fingers together and held tight so Tasha knew he would hold her, take care of her, ground her when she fell apart. 

_Oh I love you viciously._

***********

***********

“I can’t feel anything in my left hand.” 

Later, after they’d fought and fucked and finally tore apart gasping for air, _later_ they lay amid the destruction of their home and what was left of their fake marriage and just _talked_. The comforter from the guest bedroom was spread out on the floor, Natasha wrapped up in Bucky’s shirt, and Bucky with a throw pillow over his dick because he was too hot to bother with clothes. 

“No?” he rolled over onto his side and picked up Natasha’s left hand, kissed each of her fingers and then her palm. “Why not?” 

“Shrapnel.” Natasha was soft and rumpled, her lips swollen and cheeks still flushed red and Bucky couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss her. She was _intoxication_ and he would never have enough. “Carved into my left side. Took a plastic surgeon to fix the damage but we never fixed the nerves.” 

“Ain’t no thang, baby.” Bucky rotated his left shoulder purposefully. “Remember my wind surfing accident?” 

“Mm-hmm?” Natasha swept her tongue along the line of Bucky’s jaw and practically purred when her husband shuddered beneath her. “What about it?” 

“Not a windsurfing accident.” Bucky tugged a few times to disconnect the cling that kept his silver arm quite _literally_ under wraps, and watched Natasha’s mouth drop open as it fell away. “That building you brought down on me caused some pretty serious damage, and old man Pierce is all about building terminators these days.” 

“This is my fault?” Natasha touched the silver limb carefully, up to scars that had been revised at least three different times to make them all but invisible. “Bucky, I–” 

“Didn’t say it was your fault.” Bucky shook his head. “Not your fault, just like you trying to take a shot at me yesterday morning wasn’t your fault. Plus it’s not the first time I got good and hurt. See this line right here?” he traced a faint line low on his body. “Botched appendix removal, my body kept trying to heal over mid surgery, I almost died from the shock.” 

“Super solder serum saved you?” she guessed and he nodded. “That’s both gross and amazing.” 

“Speaking of amazing.” Bucky pinched at her bicep playfully. “I saw you rip that safe door off. You juiced too? Always heard rumors that the Black Widow got a pint sized dose of what they gave me.” 

“I’m strong enough.” Natasha said dismissively. “But sure, that’s why we’ve been chasing each other for decades on end. Why most of my scars heal up quick too. This one was Bogota. I fell off a helicopter during a rescue.” 

“Afghanistan.” Bucky craned his neck so she could see the thin white scar at his hairline. “Bullet about took my head off.” 

“Our first wedding anniversary I was so high on tranquilizers to deal with almost getting run over, I don’t even remember the night.” 

“S’alright, sweetheart, Valentine’s Day last year when you wore that pretty pink lace thing?” Bucky pointed down at the dick-covering throw pillow meaningfully. “I slid down a banister thinking I was real slick chasing after someone, turns out there was a big ol ball on the end of the railing and it connected with my tenders. I could barely walk much less get it up in the way you deserved.” 

“My love, I think tonight has been the first time in _years_ you’ve gotten it up in the way I deserve.” she teased, and Bucky shot back, “Well maybe if you didn’t wear granny night gowns all the time my dick wouldn’t be so shy!” 

“I wear granny night gowns to cover all my bruises from work!” she laughed out loud. “What’s your excuse for wearing tighty whities and long sleeves to bed?” 

“I like they way they cup my package, and also to hide my arm.” Bucky shrugged. “Why do I get th’feeling that if we’d kept doing the deed like we did at the beach, all this would’a come out sooner?” 

“I almost wish it had.”

“Me too.” Bucky wound his finger around a strand of Natasha’s hair and tugged lightly. “Was it you in Saint Paul last winter? One damn time we were _sure_ the Widow had come out of hiding long enough to fuck up my mission.” 

“The week I said I was visiting my mother and you said were at Brock’s bachelor party.” She confirmed. “I didn’t know the Winter Soldier was in Saint Paul.” 

“Yeah well, apparently wearing polos and playing golf is the world’s best cover. Turned me from Most Wanted to Most Ignored over night.” 

“By the way?” Natasha raised her eyebrow, then smiled when Bucky leaned in and kissed it. “I hate your khakis. If you don’t stop wearing them, I’ll burn every last pair.” 

“That’s fine, I only wore them so the neighbor women would stop ogling me.” Bucky admitted. “Figured you were the only one I wanted looking at me anyway, plus it’s easier to stay under the radar if no one notices me for any reason, right?” 

“Same reason I started wearing modest dresses and got rid of any high heel over two inches.” Natasha agreed. “Easier to blend in if I look like the rest of the pretty plastic housewives.” 

“There’s nothing plastic about you.” Bucky brushed over Natasha’s nipple and grinned when it hardened beneath his thumb. “And you could wear a potato sack and still be the most beautiful woman on the planet, Tash.” 

“I’ve missed you being ridiculously sappy with your compliments.” she admitted, and Bucky admitted softer, “I miss feeling like you want me to say that sorta stuff.” 

And later still, when they’d ordered delivery pizza and laughed until their stomach hurt because the poor delivery kid looked so damn confused over the destruction and then over Natasha wearing a lot of _not much_ , Bucky inhaled most of a pepperoni slice and asked, “Not to put a damper on our sorta spectacular make up sex but um– you know what I’m thinkin?” 

“You’re thinking the same thing I’m thinking, which is that it seems highly suspicious that we cohabited for three years together and somehow never really ran into each other on any missions and that it almost seems too much of a coincidence that we both ended up on the same mission on the same day.” Natasha wiped a bit of cheese from his chin. “ _That’s_ what you’re thinking.” 

“Actually I was thinkin’ that when you sit cross legged like that I can see all of your hoo-hah.” Bucky admitted and Natasha practically cackled with laughter. “But yeah, it’s sorta weird that we used’ta interrupt each others missions all the damn time but the whole three years we were together, other than Saint Paul we didn’t even check into the same time zones.” 

“Last week one of my techs went missing in a quick snatch that literally should have never happened.” Natasha pointed out. “My company has some of the highest levels of security out there, and yet he was snatched and tossed walking home from a bar he’d never been to with a woman he’d never seen?” 

“One of our gals.” Bucky confirmed. “No idea how she stumbled on an actual tech for your end of things, but she did, called it in and we moved quick. Easiest kidnapping of my life.” And then after a pause, “Too easy, maybe.You guys couldn’t find him at all.” 

“And we tried for the better part of a week.” Nat took a drink straight from the two-liter of mountain dew. “We tried but he was gone.” 

“We weren’t even being all that stealthy.” Bucky said slowly. “And he gave up his information real quick. Told me about you being active again and about the hostage situation taking place at the border. I didn’t even have to get scary with him, just threatened to eat him is all.” 

“That’s not scary?” 

“I’m the Winter Soldier, Tash. You think threatening to take a bite outta someone is my scariest version of torture?” 

“Touche.” She took another drink. “So one of my guys got snatched way too easily, you got the information with barely even a threat and after three years of missing each other, you and I were on the same mission, staring at each other through a rifle scope from a thousand yards away. If you were reading this file as an outsider, what does it look like to you?” 

“Like the powers that be were fully aware of us but made sure we were never aware of each other until the time came t’knock us both off.” Bucky answered immediately, and then, “Oh fuck me.” 

“How much time do you have left on your directive to get rid of me?” Natasha asked quietly. “Cos my clock is down to two hours and some change.” 

“Two hours and some change.” Bucky confirmed. 

“ _Shit_.” 

“So what are we gonna do?” Bucky sat back against the couch and hauled Natasha up into his lap, getting rid of the pillow so he could set her pert butt right against his thighs. “You wanna run? You wanna fight? What?” 

“…you want to do this together?” Natasha blinked at him a few times. “Really?” 

“You’re my wife.” Bucky smoothed his hand down her back and rested it at the curve of her hip. “And more than that, the first time you pinned me down and rode my face–” 

“ _Bucky_!” 

“–I knew I’d do anything for you. So what’s it gonna be, baby? Three years of marriage for nothing? Or are we gonna Bonnie and Clyde this shit?” 

Natasha looked down at their entwined hands, at the ring on her left finger and the gleam of Bucky’s silver palm. “Didn’t Bonnie and Clyde die?” 

“Yeah, right before they went down in the history books as one of the best stories out there.” Bucky nipped lightly at her earlobe. “I could go down in history with you, especially if it means fucking with Fury and Pierce after they tried to trick us into this whole thing. What’d’ya say? Wanna blow some shit up?” 

“I could blow some shit up.” 

Bucky pulled her into a sweet kiss, slow and nearly tender as the last of the walls between them came tumbling down. 

“Shot to the heart.” he sang softly, teasingly, as they parted. “And you’re to blame. Sugar, you give love a bad name.” 

“That used to be our song.” Natasha laughed and hummed the next line. “I can’t believe you remember that.” 

“It’s still our song.” Bucky corrected. “And we got about two hours before someone else comes and tries to finish the job neither one’a us finished. So why don’t we find some clothes, steal us a car and get the fuck outta here?” 

“I’m with you.” Natasha got to her feet, then leaned down to give him one last kiss. “And I’m sorry for trying to kill you.” 

“I’ve had uglier people try a lot worse.” Bucky said solemnly. “Finding out you’re a total bad ass instead of a super boring housewife is the best anniversary present ever.” 

Natasha tossed her hair behind her shoulder and finger gunned at him and Bucky clapped his hands over his heart, laughing out loud as she ran for the stairs to change, singing along to their song as she went. 

_Darlin’ you give love a bad name._

********

A mile west of Mr. and Mrs. Barnes’s house, Brock Rumlow sat in the back of a van with a rifle held tight to his chest, watching the countdown clock on his next hit tick down to zero. 

“This seems wrong is all I’m saying.” one of the other men said. “I worked with Barnes for damn near ten years now, how come all the sudden he’s on the hit list?” 

“None of your business.” Rumlow grunted. “You see the guy, you put a bullet in the guy, you get another mission tomorrow and do the same thing.” 

“But it’s _Bucky_.” 

“Yeah, and now it’s Bucky’s time.” Rumlow racked in a round in the chamber. “Personally, I’m looking forward to seeing just how many bullets the mighty Soldier can take before he bleeds like the rest of us. What do you think, twenty? Twenty five?” 

“I think you’re a sick bastard.” 

“And that’s why I’m next on Pierce’s list of soldiers to super juice.” Rumlow grunted. “T-minus one hours and forty minutes boys. Stay steady.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Somewhere Classified**

“What do you mean, the house was empty?” Alexander Pierce pushed aside his cocktail in favor of rubbing at his eyes wearily. “How was it _empty_?” 

“ _Not just empty sir, but shot to hell_.” Brock said on the other line. “ _I think they went at it and tried to kill each other and then when they couldn’t, they ran together_.” 

“The Black Widow and Winter Soldier wouldn’t run together even if the goddamn world was ending.” Pierce denied. “Additional options. A safe room built beneath the house?” 

_“Found it, destroyed it. The weapons racks were empty, so wherever the Soldier got off to, he’s well armed._ ” 

“And the Widow?” 

“ _She’s got bug out spots all over the country. We’ll never find her_.” 

“Damn it.” Pierce forced out an uneven breath. “Okay, you and your team stay on it. I’ve got to make a call to someone who might actually know what to do with this mess.” 

“ _Oh no, not–_ ” 

“Yep.” he nodded grimly. “Stay on them and report back to me immediately with any word.” 

“ _Yes sir._ ” 

The phone went dead and Pierce pulled a different one out from a locked drawer, banged his head against the desk a few times and then finally dialed the only number he actually knew by heart. 

“ _What do you want, Pierce_?” 

“Fury.” Pierce pursed his lips and tried for patience. “The worst has happened.” 

“ _Oh motherfucker.”_

************

************

“All I’m saying is that we could have jacked something better than a minivan.” Bucky complained as he merged into freeway traffic. “It’s like driving a bus, but somehow this is _less_ cool than a bus.” 

“Minivans are the vehicles people remember the least.” Natasha propped her little feet up on the dash and took a bite out of Bucky’s candy bar. “Their basic design hasn’t changed in the last decade, they rarely come in colors other than white, and people don’t want to look at them. No one wants to see a stressed out dad, exhausted mom and four bratty ass kids unload from a vehicle with sliding doors, sticky seats and a plethora of suburban paraphernalia.” 

“Damn baby, you got something against minivans?” Bucky reached across the middle console and spread his big hand across Nat’s thigh. “You sound fifty shades of bitter about them. Oh and by the way, super glad the only thing that survived our little war last night was your summer skirt. My _god_ , do your legs look good in this.” 

“My legs _do_ look good in this.” Natasha admired the shape of her calves beneath the flowy skirt. “I hate minivans because every day for the last three years, the Stepford wives have been asking me when we’ll have kids and offering me advice on which minivan to get. And by the way? I knew you stole my copy of Fifty Shades of Grey. I knew it.” 

“I didn’t steal it.” Bucky disagreed. “I threw that shit _away_. You want someone to tie you up, just ask. Don’t read that nonsense, it’s abuse pretending to be romance. You want to be dommed sugar, I can do that all night long. But don’t read that trash and get off to it when it’s nothing good.” 

Natasha cut her eyes at him curiously. “You have….very strong feelings about that book.” 

“I have very strong feelings about my _wife_ looking for something gross when I’d’a been more than happy to give her something real.” Bucky snapped, then swore and shook his head. “Don’t mean to yell, sorry, I just–” 

“I think it’s terribly romantic that you would have tried that sort of thing with me if I’d wanted.” Natasha had to climb over most of the console to kiss Bucky’s cheek, but she did it anyway. “But I wasn’t reading it because I liked it, or got off to it or anything like that.” 

“No?” 

“Remember that diplomat that got killed last year? He was _into_ it, so when word got out he was looking for a sort of specific scene and liked those books, I read up on them to see what it was like.” 

“So what?” Bucky shot her a scandalized look. “You got the guy naked and all subby and then killed him?” 

“Men like him deserve to be killed with their dick out.” she answered calmly. “Take this next exit, please.” 

“It wasn’t my real parents at our wedding.” Bucky said as he switched lanes. “I paid a nice couple in the hotel five hundred bucks to stand up with me.” 

“My sister who was my maid of honor is actually Maria Hill, covert ops, all around bad ass and probably on the list of people trying to kill us right now.” she commented. “Stay left and take the road around.” 

“I’m not allergic to fish, I just hate how you cook salmon.” Bucky slowed down to take the corner and grumbled about how unwieldy the minivan was. “Use some damn salt, Nat.” 

“Eh, like I said.” she shrugged. “I haven’t cooked a day in my life, no harm done. What’s your favorite color?” 

“Green.” Bucky pointed to her eyes. “What about you?” 

“Your favorite color is my eye color?” Natasha asked suspiciously. “Since when?” 

“Since you took that shot of tequila on the beach and never broke eye contact.” Bucky confirmed. “I was basically fucked from that point.” 

“You _were_ basically fucked.” she agreed. “I rode you hard and put you away wet.” 

“All about that Bronco life, babydoll.” he chuckled. “By the way, why are we going to Fury and not Pierce?”

“Because Fury runs the world and he’ll have the _full_ story whereas Pierce will only have your side of the story.” 

“My side knows things too, Tasha.” 

“Oh not like my side does.” She laughed quietly at his disgruntled expression. “Plus, I helped design our building. I know exactly how to get in and out without making a scene. We’ll get to Fury’s office, erase our files and anything else even slightly incriminating and then we’ll get out and start a new life somewhere outside the borders.” 

“And if we get noticed?” 

“Then we have a minivan full of things that go _boom_.” Natasha checked on their pile of ammunition, guns and grenades taking over the back two rows of the van. “We’ll be fine.” 

***********

Despite Bucky’s misgivings and how weirdly unsure he was about leaving the minivan parked in a less-than-reputable spot downtown– “What if it gets stolen, Nat?” “Oh my love, we already stole it once, what’s the harm in it getting snatched a second time?” – Natasha’s choice to go after Fury’s office proved to be a good one. 

She really did know the building inside and out, right down to which of the man hole covers was a fake and led directly down to tunnels beneath the building, how far down the– _ick_ – stinky sewer pipes they had to travel, and which closet they would pop into when the tunnels finally turned up and into the headquarters. 

“This is the supply closet on the first floor. Backside of the security desk.” Natasha whispered as she wriggled out of the trap door and waited for Bucky to follow her. “The desk is for civilians that come in, and there isn’t actually anything on the next twenty levels, just elevator cables and empty floors. Offices start at twenty one and Fury is on twenty six. We’ll have to go through the elevator shaft and hopefully catch a ride on top of one of the cars.” 

“No problem.” Bucky said confidently. “I’ve jumped on top of a car or two in my day. You were in Germany, weren’t you?” 

“I vaguely remember hearing about the Winter Soldier ripping the top off a car on the _Autobahn_ and then blowing up a tunnel.” Natasha slung an automatic rifle over her shoulder, looped a rope around her waist and strapped twin holsters on her thighs. “By the way? I love that you are so capable. This would be at least a thousand times more difficult if you really were the clueless meathead I thought you were.” 

“…you thought I was a clueless meathead?” Bucky sounded halfway to scandalized. “Is it because I’m muscly? C’mon Tash, I can have brains _and_ brawn.” 

Nat only twisted her lips in a smirk and pointed up to the ceiling. “Give me a boost?” 

“Sure thing.” Bucky lifted her easily, first by the waist then holding her steady so she could stand on his shoulders. “You really thought I was clueless, huh?” 

“It was either clueless–” Natasha huffed as she wriggled herself into the air duct that would lead out to the elevator shaft. “Or I had to think that you noticed me keeping my distance and didn’t care enough to try and reach me. The clueless option hurt less.” 

“M’sorry, Tash.” Bucky heaved his bulk up behind her, grimacing when his shoulders pushed against the walls of the duct. “Truth was, it was so nice to keep such an easy cover that by th’time I realized how far away you were and how much I missed ya, it was too late.” 

“Hm.” was Natasha’s only reply before she set off down the duct, her skirt tucked into her waist so the material wouldn’t catch under her knees and trip her up. 

It was a practical choice considering how impractical her skirt was for this sort of mission, but then again, it was her own fault for not wanting to stop and get more clothing and faced with the rather tantalizing view of his wife’s backside, Bucky wasn’t about to complain. 

He _was_ going to comment though. 

“Y’know, I don’t remember you havin’ those sorta panties before.” he reached out and flicked the curve of one ridiculously pretty, barely covered butt cheek. “I would’a remembered these for _sure_.” 

“Flick my ass again and I’ll break your hand.” Natasha retorted. “And maybe if you would have done laundry every once in a while, maybe you would have seen them.” 

“Yep, that’s fair. I got no idea how to do laundry.” Bucky conceded with a quiet laugh. “Tell ya what, if you’re still wearing these when it’s all said and done, m’gonna take them off with my teeth.” 

“ _If_ I’m still wearing them?” 

“Yeah, _if_ I haven’t ripped them off before then, since now that I know what you’re wearin’, it’s all I can think about.” 

“You are worthless.” Natasha decided, and Bucky cheesed, “They don’t call me Bronco cos I’m subtle!” 

The pretty redhead hung her head as she tried to quiet her laughter. “Sweetheart, I am well aware of why they call you Bronco. Now hush up, the elevator shaft is just ahead.” 

The elevators moved _fast_ in this building, swooping down in the blink of an eye and rocketing towards the top floors at dizzying speeds. Natasha wasn’t scared of much, but trying to jump onto a runaway elevator car without plunging to a horrifying death several floors down was sketchy at best, sort of terrifying at worst.

Thankfully– or not so thankfully, probably– Bucky wasn’t scared of _anything_ and after decades of less than fun experimentation and constant training and tweaking of his particular brand of super soldier serum, he had lightning fast reflexes and impeccable timing and–

“SHIT!” Natasha yelped when Bucky just _pushed_ her, clamped her mouth shut and prayed when she hung out in mid air on nothing for a few terrifying seconds before the elevator car rushed up to meet her. 

Bucky was on the car a split second later, rolling over and covering Natasha with his bulk until she managed to get her breath back and it was there with Bucky crouched over her and the elevator humming beneath them that Tasha whispered, “You know, I never worried you didn’t have my back. Even when I thought you were clueless.” 

“Hell sugar, I would’a taken on the entire Home Owners Association for you.” Bucky whispered back, dropped a kiss on her ear, then rolled off to crouch into a ready position as the car raced towards the top. “Any chance this thing is gonna crush us into super soldier paste at the top?” 

“Nope, there’s only stairs to Fury’s office, so it will stop one floor above.” Natasha confirmed. “Fury figures if people have to come up the stairs to get to him, he can shoot them all before they reach the landing.” 

“Charming.” 

“Oh yeah, he’s a peach.” 

The elevator slid to a stop quick enough to make their stomachs swoop, and while Natasha peeked down into the car to watch the top floor receptionist get in and push the button for back down, Bucky eyed the steel support beams in the elevator shaft and listened to the timing of the doors on the floor below them. The second he felt the slightest change in the car that signaled it was ready to move, he snatched Tasha around the waist and stepped off onto one of the support beams, held her close while the elevator dropped into the yawning _nothing_ , then made sure she was secure before reaching up above their heads and wrenching an air duct cover free. 

“Up and at’em sugar pie.” he grunted, and Natasha climbed him like a damn tree, clambering up his waist, onto his shoulders and then leaping off to fling herself into the duct. Bucky wasn’t quite as graceful, but while he was trying to get his frame into the narrow space, Natasha cut the wires to the vent security systems and once the nearly imperceptible hum of surveillance shut off, they both breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Yeah babydoll.” Bucky wrapped his left hand around Natasha’s delicate ankle and squeezed gently. “Those undies ain’t gonna last this trip through the vent. You might as well drop trou now, there’s no way I’ll survive looking at your booty this long.” 

“Behave.” Natasha warned, but her green eyes flashed bright enough to make Bucky’s mouth dry. “Once we’re out of here you can do whatever you want to my undies.” 

“Fair deal. Let’s go.” 

The vents let out in the stairs, and the moment they could stand up straight, both spies had weapons drawn and at the ready, watching for any movement, for any cameras that Natasha didn’t remember from before, for anything that sounded like voices on the floor above. 

Up and up and up, and Bucky covered Tasha while she picked the lock, slid through the door to Fury’s office, and made a beeline for the computer at the desk. 

“I thought you said you hated all this tech stuff.” Bucky commented as he watched her fingers fly over the keyboard. “What was that all about?” 

“My love, I also told you it was adorable when you wore sandals and knee high socks.” Natasha glanced up from the computer long enough to send her husband a wry smile. “I lied about both things.” 

“Our entire marriage is a sham.” Bucky lamented, and he was only half joking, mostly sad. “Tash, is anything I know about you true?” 

“I never once faked it in bed.” Natasha kept typing, though her cheeks flushed slightly. “Never once. Even when we were as boringly missionary position vanilla as possible? You were always so _good_ , and I don’t know if I hate it or love it that even when we were lying to each other, you still knew me well enough to wind me up like that.” 

“Never faked, huh?” Bucky felt like maybe he shouldn’t be grinning quite so wide over that admission, and judging by the unimpressed noise Natasha made, she agreed. “Well if it makes you feel any better, I never faked it either.” 

“I’m well aware.” Something blared an _alarm_ on the computer and Natasha cursed under her breath before finishing, “Your mid-nut face is ridiculously stupid, there’s no way you could have faked that.” 

“Fuck you, Tash.” 

“We make it out of here alive, and I’m gonna make you do exactly that.” A few more key strokes and the computer made another one of those alarm noises. “Almost almost almost done, I just need a minute and then I can wipe everything–” 

“Oh I’d hold off on that, if I were you.” Two new voices, Pierce and Fury walking into the office together, the two heads of competing espionage companies looking far too chummy for what they’d just discovered in the office. “No need to be reckless, Romanov.” 

Guns up _immediately_ , Bucky whirling around with rifle at the ready and blocking Natasha from view, thinking he did a good job of it too until he heard the familiar click of her guns on either side of his head and realized she had both pistols up and ready to unleash. 

“I got you, baby doll.” he said easily, and Natasha murmured, “Oh, but I’ve got you first, my love.” 

“This is cute.” Fury motioned between the two of them, his one good eye narrowed curiously. “The way you two act like you love each other instead of acting like you aren’t two minutes from killing each other. Romanov, hands off the button.” 

“Hands are off only because they’re on the trigger.” she said coolly. “Tell me, Director. How long have you known I was cohabiting with the Winter Soldier.” 

“Oh, I can answer that.” Alexander Pierce spoke up then, keeping more distance between himself and the two spies than Fury was, either more aware of exactly what the Winter Soldier could do, or more scared of what either pissed off operative could manage before he had a chance to defend himself. “It was the funniest thing, you know. I sent the Soldier deep cover to recover after replacing his arm. Only pulled him out for the most important assignments and we were ultra lucky that the Black Widow had seemingly retired and wasn’t disrupting our plans. We even hoped the bitch was dead but alas–” 

He smiled tightly at Natasha. “–a pipe dream, as it were. Because about a year and a half ago when Fury and I decided to start sharing intel to take down a common competitor, we discovered that _both_ our top operatives were under cover in the suburbs just outside the city.” 

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Director Fury cut in again. “All the things I learned when Pierce and I started collaborating and _nothing_ prepared me for the Winter Soldier files. Not his violence, not his vengeance, not the way he looked exactly like the doofus beach bum Natasha had seduced into a sham marriage two years previous.” 

“It was nice to finally get a picture of the Black Widow.” Pierce added. “Not so nice to see a picture of her in pearls and an apron in the holiday card from The Winter Soldier. So we did the only thing we could do.” 

“Which was?” 

“Watching the two of you for the better part of a year to see if you were compromised and sharing information, or if you’d gotten so lax in your duties neither had any idea they were sharing a bed with the enemy.” the Director said flatly. “Sent you both on the same assignment figuring it would kick both your training in. Natasha, I’ve never seen you hesitate on a shot before, and the Winter Soldier has never missed once. By not killing each other, you solved our problem for us.” 

“The problem of how to retire the two most dangerous people in the world.” Pierce confirmed. “And then you pull this little stunt and are up here trying to delete files– Come on, Romanov. You didn’t think it would be this easy, did you?” 

“I dunno, I thought it was sorta hard. That elevator was no joke” Bucky muttered, and Natasha kicked him in the back of the foot and hissed, “Hush, damn it!” 

“You know as well as I do the protocol for deleting files.” Fury interrupted, wagging his finger warningly. “It’s not so much a _delete_ thing as it is a _share it with the world_ thing. All your covers would be blown, bank accounts frozen, every bit of information including pictures and aliases dumped onto the internet for any yokel to find. Every warrant for your arrest would activate and you’d land on the top of the most wanted list for half the countries in the globe.” 

“Guess we’ll have to find a country without a most wanted list then.” Natasha set her guns down and went back to the computer. “Watch them, baby.” 

“Oh, I got’em.” Bucky promised. “You sure about this though, sugar? Sure you wanna blow it all like that?” 

“It’s either this or they make us kill each other.” Natasha went back to typing, glancing up periodically at the two men. “You know that.” 

“He knows that.” Pierce said confidently. “But I’m willing to make good on our original plan, if you are. I’d rather not lose _two_ valuable agents, let’s cut our losses at one. Whichever one of you puts a bullet in the other right now comes back into the fold, no questions asked, no issues taken.” 

“Same deal goes for you Romanov.” Fury was quick to add when Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Shoot the Soldier in the back and I’ll call off the hit. I don’t want to lose you, but he’s compromised you, so he’s gotta go.” 

Bucky was silent, and the constant click click of computer keys paused as Natasha closed her eyes briefly. 

“Honestly, Barnes.” Bucky’s head shot up in surprise when Pierce used his real name. “Natasha Romanov? The Black Widow? In what universe do you think she actually loves you? Do you really think you could have a happily ever after with her? She can’t cook, she can barely make small talk beyond asking about weapons, hell she can’t even have _kids_.” 

Behind him, Natasha sucked in a harsh breath and even Fury looked uncomfortable with the sudden turn in the conversation, but Pierce either didn’t notice or didn’t care. 

“How are you going to have a happily ever after with a woman who is less of a woman and more of a machine?” Pierce pressed, growing bolder as the door opened behind him and commandos filed silently in, guns raised and trigger fingers ready. “The Widow is so dedicated to her work she _chose_ to give that up. You can’t tell me she’s going to be happy playing housewife in the suburbs.” 

“Romanov, you brought a building down on the Soldier three years ago knowing full well it would kill him.” Fury growled impatiently when Natasha went back to typing. “Looked down your scope at him and killed him anyway. What’s different now? He lied to you for years.” 

“Yeah, well I lied to him too.” Natasha spat, and then hesitated, a brief there and gone touch at her stomach. “Bucky, darling–” 

“I don’t care about that.” Bucky tightened his hand on the rifle. “Don’t care about it, and to be real honest Pierce, you deserve a swift kick in the balls for trying to throw that in my wife’s face. Th’fuck is wrong with you?” 

“Either way, there’s no way out.” The Director interjected. “You hit that button, your lives are ruined and these men will make sure you never see the light of day again. Don’t hit that button and kill the Soldier instead, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. I won’t leave you out in the cold, Romanov. I promise.” 

“You have always been good to me, Director.” Natasha said softly, mockingly. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to do the proper housewife thing and defer to my husband on this. Bucky?” 

“Yeah, sugar.” 

“Do you trust me?” 

Bucky glanced over his shoulder lightning fast, saw all he needed to see in a blink of his eye and nodded. “With my life, Tash. Do you love me?” 

“Viciously.” she whispered. 

“On three then.” Bucky took a step back towards the desk, kept his rifle pointed at one or the other of their bosses. “ _One_.” 

“ _Two_.” Natasha hit a final button on the computer and snatched the rope from her waist, backing towards the huge windows behind them, the ones that looked over the city and were several hundred feet above _nothing_. “My love?” 

“ _Three_ —”


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five– Somewhere Hot and Humid and Honeymoon-y  
**

“Alright.” Bucky filled a shot glass to the rim with tequila and balanced it carefully on his middle finger. “Never have I ever seduced someone then killed them shortly before orgasm, which is a bitch move by the way, how you gonna off somebody before they get off?”

“That’s fucking cheating, and you know it.” Natasha warned, snatched the tequila and pounded it in a single swallow. “My turn. Never have I ever strangled someone to death with my bare hands.” 

“Cheating.” Bucky answered promptly, and leaned in to lick a line of salt off Nat’s neck before taking his own shot. “Never have I ever worn purple velour shorts with the word JUICY across the ass.” 

“Damn you. Where’d you find the picture?” Natasha took a shot and wiped her mouth, motioned for the lime. 

“Believe it or not, it was in that big photo album we kept at the house in the suburbs.” Bucky lifted up the nearly empty tequila bottle and eyed the remainder. “Back in the fake photos I supplied for my college days and what I can only assume are staged pics of you and Maria? Dat ass, purple velour shorts, _JUICY_. You look amazing.” 

“Never have I ever…” Natasha hesitated because after a solid hour and a half they were running out of ideas, and Bucky cut in with a, “Jumped from th’top floor of a wildly sketchy building with your spouse that you are head over heels in love with?” 

Natasha’s smile was equal parts amused and endlessly fond as she took the almost empty bottle from Bucky, took a long drink and then passed it back so he could finish it off. “What do you know, we’ve _both_ done that.” 

“Hell yeah, we have.” Bucky tossed the bottle into the bushes behind them and stretched out on the sun warmed sand, opening his arms so Tasha would curl up over his heart and they could rest together. “Y’know we’ll need another bottle or three if we’re gonna get drunk?” 

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice that first night how much it took to get you tipsy.” Natasha mused, drawing idle fingers over the myriad of scars on Bucky’s bare chest. “But to be fair, I was two bottles deep myself before I was even tipsy, so that probably explains it.” 

“Probably.” Bucky agreed easily, and ran a gentle touch over the _newest_ scar on Tasha’s body, jagged and still raised a little bit from where they’d gone through the window together. “Sorry about this one, doll. I should’a covered you better.” 

“You made sure the commandos didn’t shoot me on the way down.” Natasha pointed out dryly. “I think that’s covered enough, don’t you?” 

“S’more covered than you are right now.” Bucky plucked at the strings of her teeny weeny, itsy bitsy, bright white polka dot bikini. “Not that I’m complanin’, m’just saying this thing is _literally_ a health hazard.” 

“Mm-hmm.” Natasha bit at her bottom lip and hummed softly when cool metal fingers dipped under the rather scandalously low waist of her bottoms. “And when did you become an expert on bikinis?” 

“Haven’t you heard?” Bucky jostled her lightly, scooted her up his body so he could get a firm grasp on that delectable booty. “I’m part of the FBI, sugar pie. Female Bikini Inspector. This particular item isn’t a danger to you, but boy howdy is it doing fatal things to my blood pressure.” 

“Ah, well we wouldn’t want anything fatal to happen.” she giggled softly and sat up, jiggling just enough to be _obvious_ as she undid the barely there ties holding her top together. “What if I get rid of half the danger?” 

The bikini top came up and off, flung away to the side and even though Bucky jerked forward to grab her, Natasha was faster, lighter on her feet, laughing out loud as she raced away down the beach towards the water and away from her husband. 

“Tasha!” Bucky scrambled to his feet and took off after her, shouting, “That didn’t eliminate half th’danger babydoll, my hearts in danger of just outright stoppin’ now! Come back! I need CPR!” 

Natasha was still laughing when Bucky caught up to her and tackled her into the clear blue water and gentle waves, still laughing when they resurfaced dripping went and clinging to each other, and only when Bucky drew her in close for a sweet sweet kiss did Natasha’s laughter quiet to a satisfied moan. 

“Cmere.” Bucky hoisted her up to his waist, and Natasha wrapped her legs around him obligingly, shivering when bare skin met bare skin. “Yeah,. There you are _wife_.” 

“Husband.” Natasha blinked water out of her eyes, twisting a piece of dark hair through her fingers. “Did you know my world famous peanut butter pie was from the bakery down the street? I had to pay her two hundred and fifty dollars every time you wanted a goddamn pie just so she wouldn’t sell me out.” 

“I had to learn to cut grass from a YouTube video.” Bucky admitted. “Never even seen a weed whacker before, I full on thought it was some sorta gun.” 

“You thought a weed whacker was an assassination tool?” Natasha said blankly, and Bucky defended, “It’s called a whacker, Tash!” 

“Christ, you are a doofus.” Natasha shrieked with laughter when Bucky dunked her beneath the waves, and came up sputtering, “Damn you! You’re going to ruin my hair! I just had it colored and sea water is terrible for it!” 

“You look like a goddamn mermaid, and that’s th’honest truth.” Bucky decided, and for a moment they just floated there, bobbing in the waves and sharing kisses as the warm wind blew in from the south and dried the salt on their skin. 

“I think I fell in love with you the first night we were together.” Natasha’s confession was whisper soft, and anyone other than a super soldier would have missed it all together. “I never once faked it. I took the mission because I wanted to be with you even if were just pretending. For once in my life, I knew I loved someone and I didn’t want to let that go.” 

“That’s real good, Tash, cos I’m not gonna let you let me go.” Bucky promised. “You’re like a shot to the heart, and m’sure there’s a whole lotta people out there that think we don’t belong together but we do.” 

And then with a lecherous look slightly below the waves where she was topless and all sorts of distracting– “And by the way, if you would’a been like _this_ in the suburbs I would have gladly lived there for the rest of my life.” 

“I love you too much to let you wear high waisted khakis and play golf the rest of your life, darling.” 

“Oh thank god. I mean, your tiddies are worth it, but–” 

“BUCKY!” 

“Hey now, they don’t call me Bronco cos I’m–” 

“Oh my love, _everyone_ knows why they call you Bronco.” 


End file.
